


Nature, Red in Tooth and Claw

by astronavigatrix



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: F/M, Lapis is a goddamn Disney Princess you can't change my mind, Strangers to Lovers, me: challenge accepted, this is self-indulgent as hell, toriyama: drops an unnamed wife into 17's life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-10-18 18:50:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17586386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astronavigatrix/pseuds/astronavigatrix
Summary: Android Seventeen just wanted some peace and quiet. Apparently, not even hiding out in out-of-the-way wildlife preserves could grant him that.He finds himself not minding as much as he thought he might.





	Nature, Red in Tooth and Claw

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's an uncanny valley between ruthless killing machine and ~~disney~~ fairytale prince, and somehow this asshole falls right smack in the middle of it.

    
    
    
     
        There's something in the forest that shouldn't be there.   
  
        Teeth set against the skin of an apple, Pitaya narrows her eyes and goes about checking her surveillance setup, the unnatural silence of her surroundings stringing her nerves taut as piano wire. It was unusual, even this close to the edge of the preserve, for there to be such a startling lack of sound from its inhabiting fauna. She eats as she works, holding the apple between her teeth when she needs to climb to get at the cameras in the trees. Nothing is broken, though a couple are waterlogged and will need replacing when next she returns, but all in all, everything looks good... in this part of the woods, at least. Dusting her gloves off as she turns to head back toward her car, she reminds herself that she's still got a lot of ground to cover before she's actually done.   
  
        (The hindbrain panic she'd been feeling the whole time ratchets down a few notches as she moves toward the clearing, dark of the woods looming at her back.)  
  
        Connecting her laptop to the wireless camera network takes seconds, apple only retaining two or three bites by the time the multi-window display spreads over her screen. She pops the first recording into greater prominence and sinks her teeth into the soft flesh of the fruit in her hand automatically. Sharp and controlled, she makes her way through the snack as the last sixteen hours of footage replays itself in front of her. Of course, as is her luck, the issue isn't present in the first surveillance video. Nor is it in the second, the fifth or the seventh. By the time she finds her first bit of evidence on the eight, the sun is beginning to get high enough to heat the back of her neck without needing movement to exacerbate it. Pulling a water bottle from her cooler, she sets the plastic to her lips only to sputter as a single curious, human eye appears, taking up the entire span of the lens before flickering away as if it had never been there. The water bottle is put down, slowly, and she blinks, as if that will bring the eye back.   
  
        _Who the fuck_ , she catches herself thinking tersely, _could possibly move that fast?_  
  
        She isn't so detached from the world, of course, that she isn't well aware of some of the people who had been up and coming at the World Martial Arts tournaments in the years when she was young. The ones that had made her pick up martial arts if only to be able to defend herself half as well as that girl who'd kicked so much ass she'd gotten a proposal. She also  _definitely_  isn't detached enough not to be aware of the reports of giant apes and artificial moons. Or of the complete shitshow that had been Mr. Satan's attempt to take on that strange green abomination that had most recently threatened the planet. Those things, however, had happened far enough from her neck of the woods that the spillover had only been a mild concern at the time. Given that the last of those things had happened only a couple of months ago at this point, there is a very real possibility that something from the aftermath of that altercation had managed to wind its way toward the park.   
  
        Shaking her head, she scoffs at her overactive imagination.  
  
        There is _no_ way she could actually be that unlucky.  
  
        

* * *

  
  
        As is often the trend when it comes to matters concerning herself, she discovers she is very wrong indeed about her luck.  
  
        She finds the reason it's so quiet asleep under a tree at the edge of a pond. Not just the reason, but a good portion of the creatures that would normally be making the sounds she's been missing all morning.  
  
        Birds hop and flutter between broad shoulders and an upturned palm, fingers curled gently toward its center. A single doe has her head resting against a thigh, and various other small animals pass around and over him without hesitation. They are fearless, he is motionless, and as the seconds tick by, she likes the situation less and less.  
  
        At the edges of the treeline, she spots a few predators pacing, restless and wary.   
  
        _That's_ the part that gives her concern, especially since she can't fathom a reason they're not actively hunting him at the moment. So, idyllic as the sight may be, she doesn't trust this guy one bit.  
  
        Not to mention he's still trespassing, and she doesn't plan on letting him get away with it either. Raising her rifle to her shoulder, she adjusts the scope for distance and takes in a slow, steady breath. Once he's down and out, she'll toss him in the back of her truck and deliver him to the rangers. Maybe she'll even get a reward out of it; she really hopes so, because she's well overdue for a computer upgrade. That thought in mind, she clicks off the safety and takes aim. Her breathing pauses for the instant it takes her to squeeze the trigger, then exhales sharply once it's done.   
  
        A moment later she finds herself choking on that very same breath.   
  
        His hand is up, her tranquilizer dart held between the tips of two fingers and an icy azure gaze locked directly on her. The closed circuit feed hadn't done those eyes much justice, especially narrowed to slits sharp enough to cut as they are. Tensing, she lowers the gun with the intent of getting in the truck where she's less of an easy-looking target, only to look up from her scope to find an unfortunately familiar broad chest directly in front of her.  
  
        Staring down at her with diamond-hard eyes, his lip curls as the barrel of her gun is twisted around on itself, making her eyes go wide with surprise and trepidation. She slides her gaze back to him, harsh and glacial, feeling herself swallow hard. The familiarity of him sets off warning alarms in her mind, his obvious strength kicking her fight or flight instinct hard into overdrive on 'flight'. He doesn't look angry-- inconvenienced is the word she'd use-- but there's still something there that makes her some attempt to lower her gaze from that nonetheless fierce expression.   
  
        He feels like a wild thing, all warning snarls and bared teeth and in need of taming for his own good.  
  
        Which is really the last thing she wants to deal with.  
  
"You-- you're not supposed to be here," she hears herself say, voice somehow steady despite the racing of her pulse, the roaring cacophony of her blood pounding away in her ears, a waterfall rush dimming her senses to everything but the singular, narrow focus on those cold, cold eyes. "This preserve is off-limits to visitors outside of camping season, and--!"  
  
        His head cocked, a single brow arching high, and the words died in her throat as he seemed to almost absently squeeze the rifle's already bent barrel hard enough to leave the indents of his fingers in the metal.   
  
"So you decided to shoot me instead of saying that to begin with?"  
  
        A hot flush works its way up to her ears, startled embarrassment trying to war with the still steady trepidation his presence instills. One hand drops from her grip on the gun to tug at a forelock of pale hair and she swallows hard once more and breathes out sharply through her nose.  
  
"...yeah, okay. Fair." Then her nose crinkles in displeasure, looking down at the damage he'd done, and offered him a sardonic look in return. Her brain, still on high alert at the presence of what it classified as an  _apex predator_ screamed self-preservation at her even as her lips parted to add: "Though considering I didn't actually manage to shoot you, did you have to ruin my gun? It's going to cost  _so_ much to replace."   
  
         Surprise flashes across his eyes, the first identifiable expression she's seen from him the entire time, and then he looks down at the damage he'd done somewhat contritely. The corner of his mouth lifts in an idle smirk, and he parrots back at her:   
  
"Yeah, okay. Fair."  
  
        The tension that had been building since he caught the tranq didn't disappear but it... shifted. His presence still set her on edge, especially when his smirk disappeared, quickly as it had come, eyes once again shuttered, distant. A step was taken back, hands shoved into his pockets, gaze flickering briefly to her now useless weapon. A quarter turn, and she realized he was withdrawing from her, and felt some of that pressure mounting with each moment of his presence begin to dissipate.   
  
        (She didn't catch the curious look he gave at the slight lessening of tension in her shoulders as he dragged his ki under control, but that was for the best.)  
  
"I'll get out of your hair then," he offered, languid and insolent, fingers lacing together behind his neck. "Wasn't really trying to stay somewhere I shouldn't."  
  
        An incredulous choking noise is her only response, and suddenly she feels worse about both trying to shoot him and comparing him (however internally) to an animal.   
  
"You were  _living_ out here!?"  
  
        Voice cracking as unfettered concern and the surprise both fill her to the brim, her previously flippant attitude takes a firm backseat to basic human decency. Finally rising from her crouch, her weapon is shifted into the crook of her arm in order to allow her to better gesture broadly with both hands.  
  
"Are you  _crazy_!? Do you know what kind of animals live near the heart of this reserve? You could've been _killed_ \--!"  
  
        A scoff followed by a pointed look to her rifle is his only answer, and she feels that mortified heat creep up her face again.   
  
"You know what I mean, you  _ass_! And this is just a _tranquilizer_!"  
  
"Working yourself up with concern over me is a waste of your time," he deflects instead, tone disinterested at the very best. "I can take care of myself."  
  
"If you call living in the woods on a nature preserve 'taking care of yourself', sure," she finds herself (to her infinite horror) countering haughtily, nose lifting into the air. "Because I sure don't."  
  
        He stares at her in something that can only be disbelief, head tilted to one side ever-so-slightly. After a moment's perusal, he sets a hand on his hip, the faintest hint of a challenge present as he questions:  
  
"Then what would you call it?"  
  
"A shoddy attempt at becoming a cryptid?"  
  
        Silence, thick and tense falls between them as he turns toward her again. His blank stare is once more set upon her, unblinking and intent, and her previously gesturing hands freeze in place. She stares back, mortified and concerned in equal amounts at what his reaction will be, only to sputter an indignant noise at what he actually says.   
  
"Anyone ever tell you that you're kind of weird?"  
  
"I don't want to hear that from _you,_  Barmanou--!"  
  
        If she hadn't been staring right at him, she would have missed the flicker of his mouth quirking into something that must have been a smile. As it is, the sight is once again so startling given his utter lack of expression otherwise that she startles and keeps staring at him for far longer than she'd intended. When she realizes, she shakes herself to attention, then heaves a sigh that sounds more frustrated than she really feels. The next words that leave her are, in her opinion, unwise, but any real irritation she'd felt had dissipated with the lack of denial of his living out there.   
  
        Honestly, if there was something wrong with this guy, whatever was wrong with her trumped it for sure.  
  
"I'll make you a deal," she says before she can rethink it. "Help me out with my work, and I'll give you a place to stay for a while."   
  
        She expects him to reject the offer and walk away. She expects him to actually laugh in her face this time before doing exactly as he pleases. Really, she expects anything and everything but his easy agreement and a brief nod. So when that's exactly what she receives, she finds herself utterly at a loss on how to proceed. She isn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth though, especially not one this strong considering the weight of some of her equipment, and nods back, stilted and still surprised. Remembering herself, she scrambles to take a hold of the rifle in the crook of her arm with the other hand, extending that one out to him with a nervous smile.   
  
"Pitaya Panna," she introduces herself, fiddling nervously with the weapon held awkwardly between her arm and her body. "Pleased to meet you."   
  
"Seventeen," he replies, and though she doesn't question it, the lift of her eyebrows is impossible to hide.   
  
"Right," she says, dragging the word out slowly, rocking back on her heels, suddenly more uncertain now that she isn't making spur of the moment decisions based on basic (in her opinion) human decency. "...should we start now, or would you rather get a shower and stuff first?"  
  
"I'll just get sweaty again," he points out reasonably, though he doesn't admit to her that he likely won't sweat regardless. "So anything else can wait, can't it?"   
  
"Good point," she agrees, wrinkling her nose. "But as soon as we're done, you're definitely getting a shower, wild man."   
  
"Trying to get me naked so soon?" He deadpans, and it's only the fact that she'd grown up with plenty of off-color jokes that helps her recognize it for what it is.   
  
"More like trying not to be suffocated in my sleep by your stench," is the huffy response, and he makes a small noise of what sounds like agreement.   
  
"You're the boss."   
  
_Shit_ , she thinks, balking at the realization as she leads the way back to her jeep,  _I really am_.   
  
        Her project director is going to kick her ass.


End file.
